Gossip
by Lady Merlin
Summary: Uhara, Chekov and a reluctant Sulu are gossiping about their superiors. Who better to come along and verify their gossip than their superiors themselves? K/S established, not fluff. Humour. K for a bad word.


Hey everyone! I know I should be working on my full-length fic, but I can't bring myself to commit. I'm stressed like crazy, and yet here I am, staying up to write stories. *sigh*.

Either way, this is a short humorous fic, K/S established, set in the 2009 Abram's Universe. There is no obvious romance in this one. It's still at the phase where there are wild rumours about a possible relationship between Jim and Spock. :D

Also, the prose belongs to Paramount, the poetry is to be shared. Their universe will not suffer much from the poking and prodding of our collective curious imaginations. We mean our beloved characters no harm, and think they quite possibly enjoy the variety. :)

Uhara, Chekov and Sulu were sitting at a table, consuming rather boring replicated food. Chekov sighed for the umpteenth time, and said in his somewhat charming there-and-gone-again accent, "Russians can make _much_ better pasta than thees!" He waved his fork in the air to punctuate.

Sulu rolled his eyes, and Uhara asked, "Isn't pasta Italian?"

Chekov paused for a moment, before insisting, "Us Russians make it better."

Sulu sighed. "I'm _so_ bored. I _hate_ diplomatic missions. I really do," he said, skewering a potato violently. The table lapsed into silence again.

"So, who do you think is on top, Spock or the Capteen?" Chekov asked, suddenly.

Sulu sprayed bits of rice all over the table, and Uhara stared. Uhara had a very comprehensive array of stares which could do everything from express incredulity to inform you of your own lack of intelligence. And it just seemed so effortless to Chekov, who couldn't, however hard he tried, wriggle his eyebrow. He deemed it to be below him, as a Russian, and proceeded to mock everyone who could.

Naturally it was rubbed in his face endlessly, until Chekov had admitted that he wished he could wriggle his eyebrows. He had even considered asking Spock for lessons, but he got the hint (from minutes of non-stop, incredulous, roll-around-on-the-floor, with-tears-in-eyes kinda laughter from several members of the crew when he raised his idea) that it was a bad idea.

"You're fucking kidding me, right?" Sulu asked. He was not ashamed to admit that he held the captain in extremely high esteem. It might have had, he agreed, something to do with Jim having saved his like. That kind of thing couldn't be forgotten. He was also a disbeliever of the Kirk-Spock-torrid-affair theories. They struck him as utter and complete bullshit.

"I am most certainlee not," Chekov said, defensive.

"They are so _not_ sleeping together!" Sulu said, in Jim's defense. "They are both perfectly straight, respectable, _responsible_ men. They wouldn't do something like that."

"The way it sounds to me, Hikaru, you don't like gay people," Uhara said, suddenly.

"I don't _not_ like gay people! I _love_ gay people!" Sulu cried, outraged and silenced as sniggers came from the tables around them. He glared. "I just don't think the Captain is gay."

"Honey," Uhara said in her warm voice, "Hikaru, if he's not gay, he's bisexual."

"Why would you _say_ such a thing?" Sulu asked, outraged on Jim's behalf. He wouldn't like someone saying stuff like that about _him_, so he assumed it was the same for the Captain.

"Because," Uhara said with a laugh in her eyes, "I can't see him saying no to sex, be it from man, woman or alien." Sulu had to admit, he agreed. But _Spock_? No way.

"See, the theeng is, they are both dominant peeple, right? They both have very bossy personalities. Generally speaking, from what I know about relationships," Sulu sniggered, thinking, _which is nothing_, "the more confident peeple stay on top. They are the, uhm," he paused as he searched for a word, "dominants." Sulu immediately had a vision of Spock, Kirk, leather and lots of chains, and pushed away his food.

Uhara was chuckling, wiping her eyes and Sulu just stared at the light above him, trying to burn the image from his memory. Chekov looker perfectly oblivious and continued analyzing _each and every_ aspect of their personalities, and how they were likely to perform in bed. Of course, Russians were the best, but Americans came not too far behind. Sulu sighed. The kid was smart, and cute in his own really _sick_ way, but sometimes he was _too_ weird.

The torture continued for half an hour and Sulu was praying to every god he knew, that they would be hit by Klingons. He wanted to kick some ass to vent his terror. Uhara seemed to have turned off, and if he looked at the scene from behind a glass wall, it was quite funny. Chekov sat there, pasta ignored, fork waving in rapid circles as English blended with Russian, a stream of nonsensical warbling.

Suddenly there were footsteps and the very subject of their discussion joined them; Jim Kirk.

"Hey guys!" he grinned at their obvious boredom.

"Hey," Sulu replied while Chekov beamed and Uhara nodded with a smile. He had grown on them all.

"What's up?"

"Oh," Chekov began and Uhara and Sulu tensed. Chekov may be a genius with computers but he was a complete _moron_ elsewhere. "We were just discussing, who's on top, You or Meester Spock?"

There was a moment of _pin drop_ silence. Uhara looked like she was going to cry, Sulu was pretending he was warming up for fencing in San Francisco, far, _far_ away from here and Chekov was going purple, as if something was destroying his foot. Which Uhara's boot probably was.

Sulu had moved on to doing deep breathing exercises and Uhara was killing her salad.

"You do know you're salad is dead, right Mees Uhara?" Chekov pointed out.

The Captain (most surprisingly) grinned, and said, "If you don't shut up, I think you will be too. To answer your question, honestly, we take turns." He grinned some more, and walked away smartly.

_Shock_

Sulu couldn't believe it. He could _not_ believe it. Uhara grinned, then laughed out loud. Chekov looked contemplative, mind probably full of lewd images. Sulu decided that he had had enough of crazy people around him, and stood up. He decided he wanted a shirt that said 'Crazy is contagious'. He turned and saw Spock and Jim grinning at each other, and it wasn't a wasn't-that-a-funny-prank kind of way. It was a nicely-done-and-I-love-you grin from Spock and an, I-love-doing-crazy-unexpected-things-and-I-love-you-too-Spock grin from the Captain.

Perhaps there was truth to the rumours. Maybe it wasn't _just_ sex, it was a relationship. And Sulu knew Jim well enough to say that when there was a relationship, it was special. And Jim didn't seem like a pansy because he was having sex with another guy. Maybe it really didn't matter. And they looked happy. It was kinda cute, not that he'd _ever_ admit it aloud.

He sighed. They lived in crazy times. Who was he to say anything to love? In the distance he could hear Chekov claiming money from Dr. McCoy and Yeoman Rand. Sulu sighed. Something was _wrong_ with that boy.

Well? How is it? I liked it, I think. I'm not sure I put enough emphasis on the punch line, the 'we take turns' moment, but any more than that, I don't think it would have been realistic. So here it is! REVIEW!

Love,

Lady Merlin


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